Each time my dad and his friends, who usually come to our house, refer to Star Beer as a 'sweet bitter drink,' it makes my head ache because this is the most bitter drink I've ever encountered. It has the taste of bitter leaf, which would slap the mouth and cheeks with its bitter taste whenever it's swallowed.
I was just 17 years old back then, living with my parents in the villa. Many times, my dad's friends would come around and send me or any of my siblings to get them a bottle of beer, which was usually Star beer. Sometimes we would be told to get a bottle of drinks for ourselves as a tip for our errands. Since we didn't drink alcohol, we would use the money to buy something else.
One Sunday evening, my dad usually hosted a meeting in our house at that time. As a tradition, my dad's friends called me to go and get them three bottles of Star beer, each sold at N250. I was given N1,000. As I stood in front of the man, Daddy Favour as we usually call him, receiving the instructions, my face was totally dull. He noticed from the look on my face that he was disturbing my cool Sunday, but when I ran through the calculation and saw that a remainder of N250 would come out, my dull face automatically brimmed with smiles because I was sure that the remaining money would be mine.
As I was about to leave for the errands, I heard him call me back, "Come, come, come, don't go yet."
I walked back to him, and he looked at me, tapped my shoulder, muffled a laughter, and said in a slight tone, "Use the remainder to buy yourself a Star beer. If you're not going to buy it, then return my money."
"Beer? For me?" I pointed at the empty bottles on my hand to ask him clearly.
"Yes, Star beer, and you're the one who's going to take it..." He paused, looked at his colleagues who were watching the drama, chuckled, and continued, "...and you must take it in my presence."
"Leave the boy alone, he's a pastor!" One of his colleagues sitting close to him said aloud, but he didn't allow the friend to finish his words completely before he tackled him with all manners of words like, "Do you know how many pastors secretly drink alcohol? Do you know..."
I didn't wait to hear the completion of the last word; I just zoomed off to go and get the beer.
On the road while going to the shop, I didn't think much. I was ready to take the beer with full confidence that one bottle wouldn't affect me because these men usually drink five bottles before reaching their peak.
In a jiffy, I was back with the carton containing the four bottles of Star beer. I got to their table, carefully dropped the three bottles on the table while he was looking at me and smiling.
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"Is the other one inside?" He stretched his neck to look at the carton, which was at the other side of the table
"Yes, sir." I brought it out and showed him.
"Okay, you can go and enjoy yourself. Share with your siblings too," he laughed as he picked up his bottle from the table, put the cap on his mouth, and a "shiiiiiiii" came out as he used his teeth to open it.
"Christian! Chika! Juliet! Bring your cups!" I called out to my siblings who were inside watching television. Suddenly, I saw them rush out with their plastic cups each, and as they saw me with the green bottle, they paused and hissed out of disappointment.
"Wait, wait, don't go back! We are all drinking this because you guys always join me to drink sweet drinks too." They were already turning back.
"Brother, do you know how bitter this is? It's like bitter leaf hehehehe," Juliet said with laughter.
"Yes, I know. Take a look at that man, see the way he's drinking it, see the way all of them are drinking it. They said that though it's bitter and at the same time sweet, if only you master how to drink it." I walked close to her and shifted her face to the direction of my dad's friends gulping the drink from their glasses and licking their mouths as if they're licking honey.
"Go and be like them; I'm not drinking with you." She pulled away from my hand and walked away to the parlour with her plastic cup in her hand.
"Phewwww!" I sighed, smiled and walked into my room to do justice to my drink. I sat on my reading chair, placed the drink on the table, stared at the green bottle with vapour of coldness on its body, and wished it was a Malta Guinness drink.
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I used the bottle opening spot on my keyholder and puffed, and the foam rushed out so temptingly. I didn't need a gulp; the temptation was too much. I turned the bottle into my mouth, and as soon as the drink entered, my mouth went sour, and I brought it down immediately. I began to purse my lips to make the bitterness disappear, but no way. Oh yeah, I drank the ones that entered my mouth, but taking another gulp was a no for me. I just poured it into the toilet and remained in my room until the meeting they were having outside finished so I wouldn't get asked irrelevant questions.
Thanks for reading.
